


Thirty-Three

by notjustmom



Series: The Boys in Sussex [34]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Christmas, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, F/F, F/M, M/M, Sherlock Holmes's Retirement, Wedding Preparations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-02 18:09:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: The week of Mycroft and Lady Smallwood's wedding and Christmas!





	1. Chapter 1

John studied Sherlock's face carefully before speaking. "Sherlock - I know you've been under some stress already, about them coming here for the week, and the wedding preparations - and all the Christmas stuff - I know we've become a bit better at it the last few years, just remember, I'm here, and we will have a full house to help, you don't have to do everything yourself, yeah?"

"I know." Sherlock smiled at him and laid a hand on John's tense jaw, watching as he leaned into it and closed his eyes. "It won't be easy on you either, I hope you know how much I appreciate this, it will be the first Christmas that you've had your family with you, with us. I know there will be times when you need to walk Gertrude more often than she needs, and I'll understand. Thank you for this, for giving us this."

John shook his head, then pulled Sherlock into his arms, and held him silently for a moment, sighing as Sherlock melted into him, and felt his heartbeat and breathing surround him, protecting him, somehow. He wondered how other people lived without this, how he had functioned without this for most of his life, this sense of being absolutely known and loved.

Sherlock groaned as he heard his phone buzz, followed by John's. "Ready or not..."

"Good morning, Alicia..."

Sherlock ended the call and watched as John crawled back into bed and closed his eyes. "They will be here in a few hours, with a tree and all the trimmings." 

"Good."

"John?"

"Can we jusr stay in bed a couple more hours?"

Sherlock nodded and pulled John into his arms."We will survive this, too, you know, if you consider everything we've managed to live through - this week will be a piece of -

"Cake?" John snorted, then moved to look into Sherlock's smiling eyes, brushed a curl from his forehead, then kissed him softly, and murmured, "we could go back to sleep..."

"Or?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Or... get dressed and take Gertrude for a walk..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but grinned at him. "Or...."

"I could spend the next couple of hours making love with you."

"If it's not too much trouble..."

"Not at all." John smiled at him, then his voice changed, becoming serious, suddenly. "You do know how happy I am, being here with you, don't you?"

Sherlock bit his lip, then whispered, "I do. Honestly, I do, John."

 

"Good morning, boys!" Grace sang out as she walked into the kitchen.

"Boys still in bed." Molly laughed, and got up from her chair. "Their last peaceful morning before the invasion. Tea?"

"Please. It's cold this morning, looks like we might get that snow - are they all right?" She took the mug from Molly's hands and watched as she carefully sat down again.

"Historically speaking, they don't have a great track record with major holidays, this is their first Christmas in years without a case or a disaster - but, honestly, I think they are looking forward to the craziness, and I know Sherlock is truly happy to be doing this for Mycroft and Alicia. A year ago - I never would have imagined them being in the same room at all, let alone - so much has changed, Grace." She rolled her eyes and wrapped her hands around her mug. "But you know that, don't you?"

Grace didn't speak for a moment and Molly wondered if she'd overstepped. "I -"

"No - it's - the first Christmas in a long time that I remember looking forward to, Molly. Not since I was a child here, really. Christmas was always so idyllic back then, perfect - this holiday is really meant for children, but this year - it feels like it used to. The village is all decorated - all lit up, red bows and wreaths, some of the children were out caroling last night, and it just - I feel like I've been given another chance, and I didn't think I'd get that, not in this lifetime."

John walked in then, with a yawn, and walked over to give Grace a kiss. "Morning, Mum."

"Morning, John. Ready for the chaos?"

"Ready as we'll ever be." John mumbled as he poured himself a mug of tea. "I don't know if there is enough tea in the world this morning."

"Sherlock?"

"Still asleep." He sat down across from Grace and smiled at her. "He's fine, Mum. We're both good, really."

Grace searched his face, then nodded. "I know." She reached for his hand and said quietly, "this will be the best Christmas ever, John."

"I know, Mum. It already is." They both rolled their eyes as they heard one car pull up, then another. "Let the invasion begin." John sighed, then winked at Grace, finished his tea, then got up to make a mug for Sherlock and disappeared back upstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock sighed as he looked out the window. "Snowing again."

"Hmmm. Started after they all got here at least. We're supposed to get at least a foot in the next couple of days." John murmured as he leaned against him and closed his eyes.

"They're remarkably quiet downstairs."

John kissed him between the shoulder blades and nodded. "We got the tree set up, they wanted to wait for you to start decorating. Smells brilliant down there. I think they were going to walk Gertrude before the weather got worse, then start a fire and -"

Sherlock turned in John's arms, looked down into his eyes and kissed him carefully, as if afraid he would shatter. 

"Love?"

"It's nothing. I just want it to be different this year."

"It already is. I mean, Sherlock. We - look what we have, what we are now. There isn't anything we can't handle - the only monsters left are the ones that haunt our dreams, the ones we make for ourselves. But - god, you - we are together - in every way I never thought I could have - we could have - and our families - you have given me so much, love. I don't need anything else, don't you know that?"

"I do. I just - I love you, John. I don't think I told you that today."

John shook his head and leaned into Sherlock's chest, then looked up into Sherlock's smiling eyes. "Shower?"

"Shower."

 

Mycroft's eyes twinkled at his brother as he dropped into the chair across from him. "Rest well?"

"Mmhmm. Glad you made it before the storm hit. Lovely tree. It smells amazing in there - like Christmas."

"Do you remember?"

Sherlock nodded. "I do. Mum - she seemed to lose her mind at Christmas - everything was - brighter, bigger, everything just sparkled, I used to think -" he stopped and shrugged.

"What?" 

"Except for the fact that she looked exactly like Mum, I thought some elf possessed her for the month of December - she used to sing and she and father would spend hours dancing, it was her favourite time of year, she was brilliant. It didn't matter how much I would roll my eyes, and grumble at her, she would pull me out of my chair and make me dance with her... I miss her, Myc - I wish she knew how - how loved we are, Myc. Do you think she knows somehow?"

Mycroft put down the book he had been reading, and gazed at his brother. "Honestly?"

Sherlock nodded and looked away from his brother's eyes.

"I do, yes."

Sherlock turned back and smiled at him. "Really?"

"I have to believe that, Sherlock. Considering what has happened over this year, even in the last few months, I would be more surprised if she didn't know. The universe -"

Sherlock laughed and muttered, "the universe is rarely so lazy... I always wondered why it seemed that the universe spent far too much time on making sure - I don't know - I'm just trying not to take what we have for granted, Myc."

"All right boys! Enough chitchat - time to decorate - lights, then ornaments, you know the drill." Alicia dropped a kiss on Sherlock's offered cheek, pulled Mycroft to his feet, and grinned at him. "Come on, now, all hands on deck, John's already getting all sweary trying to untangle the lights -"

Sherlock rolled his eyes upward and mumbled, "yeah, Mum, I know - I know. Tis the season..."

"Sher-LOCK!!!!"

"Coming.... oh, John, really?" Sherlock tried to hold in his laughter, but failed miserably. "Just don't move - gotta get my phone first..."

"Sherlock - don't you dare!"

"Johnny - you do have to admit, it would make a perfect Christmas card..."

"Not helping, Harry!"

"We just need a star for the top - ah - ha!"

"MUM!!!!"

"Sorry - but - you are rather -"

"Don't say it -"

"Adorable?" Sherlock asked as he sat down in front of John and kissed his nose, and began to unwrap him from the lights. "How did you even -"

"Don't ask."


	3. Chapter 3

"You don't have to -" 

Harry shrugged. "I don't mind." She handed him the last plates from the table. "It was a good day."

Sherlock turned and smiled at her. "Yes, it was and we even got a great photo for next year's Christmas card." He rinsed off the plates and placed them in the dishwasher. "It's the first holiday season we've had without -"

"A corpse or two?" Harry shot him a grin.

"Right. I thought it might be harder for him, today, this - family stuff, but he didn't look at the door once, you and Clara, and Grace -

"We love him, and you, you know?"

Sherlock closed the dishwasher and started it, then turned to face her. "Yes. I do know that - he knows, too, Harry."

"I haven't known him that long, but even I can tell - how he has settled into this new life, with you."

"By settled, you mean bored." Sherlock leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms.

Harry rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. "No, settled in a good way, perhaps content, is the word I meant. He tells you, doesn't he, how happy he is?"

Sherlock nodded. "He does." He turned at a sound at the doorway to see John smiling at him. 

"Ready for bed?"

"Night, Harry."

"Night, boys."

 

"You aren't still worried, are you?" John asked as they tumbled into bed.

"Honestly?"

"Please?"

"Yes. There are times when I wonder, how it's possible that you are happy here, with just me - yes, and of course Molly and Greg - but they are in their own little world now, just a couple of months before Maddie arrives - I just wonder that you don't miss what we were before."

John sighed as he laid his head on Sherlock's shoulder and placed his hand over the dog tags. 

"I mean, is it enough, John? What we have -"

"Are you bored?" John mumbled against him.

"No! No, I - you - it's just - it's only been a few months, I suppose I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's been far too easy -"

"Sherlock, consider how long it took us to get here, I'm not even talking about the near-misses over the centuries, just us - we've fought so hard just to get here, so many times we came so close to not - I think it's okay for us to be happy, have a bit of peace."

"Is that what you want, John? Peace?"

John kissed his chest and smiled as he felt Sherlock tremble under his touch. "I didn't know what it was like, to honestly be at peace with myself, with the world, until now."

"I -"

"Yes, you idiot. You gave it to me, without you, there is no peace."

"John..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from Grace's diary...

20\. December. 20 -

Em -

Do you remember - of course you do, you always remember everything, our last Christmas? It snowed for days - well, we are holed up at the farm, The boys are 'sleeping' by the fire, they insisted Howard and I take their room, when we realized it was going to be impossible to get home - Phil has a plow attachment on his truck, so when the snow stops, he will dig us all out - from what Howard says, it hasn't snowed this much, since that last Christmas, Em. I never thought I'd have this, a house full of people at Christmas - happy people - you should see them Em - I've never heard Harry laugh so much - no, I know I've missed so many years - and the boys, they are nearly incandescent - they just glow, I thought it might be too much for John, but he spends most of his time making tea and watching Sherlock, he occasionally catches me, watching him, and he shrugs at me and smiles, then gets up and gives me a kiss before he heads into the kitchen to make more tea...

 

21\. December. 20 -

Somehow the intrepid Mrs. H and her Mrs Turner made it from London, as she said, 'nothing is going to stop me from getting the British Government married!' Mycroft snorted at her text and Alicia laughed when he showed her - they are staying with Z and Glady again - I think they stay up all night playing bridge, and eating too many biscuits, but it's lovely for Z and Glady, Mrs H tells them all the stories that they haven't heard from the boys. Of course, Glady is in heaven. She always loved them when even they were nothing more than a story she would read to Z to get him to sleep on his bad nights, but now that she knows them... Alicia is lovely, and I've never seen anyone more determined to marry her man. I know that Mycroft is supposedly one of the most powerful people on the planet, but to watch how she can make him blush simply by walking into the room, is just brilliant. She seems to be the one in charge, and yet, I know - I know the look of two people who truly know how fortunate they are to have found the courage to be what they are, the rest of the world be damned. The snow has started falling again - so beautiful, Em, just hope the power holds up, though there's nothing wrong with a wedding by candlelight.

 

22\. December. 20 -

The snow continues to fall. John had a bad night - nightmares; after Sherlock got him back to sleep, he poured us each a stiff drink, and we sat in the kitchen and talked. I didn't really know - had no idea what he had been through, what they had been through together, how many times they nearly didn't get to be where they are now. How responsible Sherlock still feels for everything - even though John has forgiven him over and over. He is so strong, Em. And loves John in a way that is almost superhuman - he reminds me a lot of you, not just physically, though of course, there is that - but he has your determination, your sheer stubbornness, and yet, he has the softest heart - a heart that has been tested so many times - I hope one day, he learns to trust that John loves him just as fiercely...

 

23\. December. 20 -

Finally the snow has stopped. Two more days, Em. Christmas. I made the boys scarves for Christmas, two beautiful shades of blue... do you remember when you tried to teach me how to knit socks - I was terrible, and the first pair I made - you laughed but wore them anyway. I miss you, so very much, Em, but I know, you're there - there are days when I feel you are so close, watching over my shoulder, I think if I turned around at the right moment, I'd catch you somehow, waving to me and smiling as you disappeared around the corner. Have to start the cooking for Christmas Eve - now that the snow has stopped, the roads are getting clear, hoping to have everyone here tomorrow...

 

24\. December. 20 -

Christmas Eve!! Just chaos, Em, you'd love it...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a cheat, this is a piece I did for a tumblr advent calendar... Christmas Eve.

Sherlock sighed as he watched John sleeping peacefully. He never could sleep on Christmas Eve, even after he had learned the truth about Father Christmas when he was six. Mycroft hadn’t spoiled it, he recalled, he had actually caught their father filling the stockings, as he had been sitting up trying to catch the old man coming down the chimney. He pretended that year though and for several years afterwards that he believed, he wasn’t sure why, perhaps it was for his father’s benefit, who seemed to love the idea of the 'Magic of Christmas’ - damn. He shook his head and kissed John’s forehead, then put on his robe and quietly went downstairs. He had to smile at the stockings that he had filled a few hours earlier, he wasn’t sure why he did it, but he thought he finally understood his father’s reluctance to give up the tradition. He rubbed his eyes as he adjusted to the brightness of the hundreds of fairy lights that he and John had managed to get hung up, and the scent of the tree nearly overwhelmed him, as he slowly made his way into the kitchen.

“Bloody hell!” came a hushed, exasperated voice. Mycroft. Sherlock couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard his brother swear, as he ducked to avoid getting hit with a balled up sheet of paper.

“Myc?” Sherlock whispered. “You should be getting some beauty sleep. You -”

Mycroft narrowed his eyes at his brother, waiting for the insult that never materialized. Sherlock shook his head.

“You don’t know how - it’s - exhausting. You think a ten minute ceremony shouldn’t be, but it’s not just that - the village will be here, and they will want, expect…” Sherlock sighed and switched on the kettle. “Your vows?”

Mycroft nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. “I thought I was so clever when I suggested it, I thought it would be easy to write them down myself - in a way that doesn’t make me come off as -”

“Overly sentimental?” Sherlock smiled at his brother and took a seat next to him. Mycroft rolled his eyes, but nodded after a moment.

“How did you do it? Stand up in front of people and share something so personal like that. I think it was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen you do - honestly. I don’t think I can do this, Sherlock. We should have just signed the book in London and carried on as we have been. Things are satisfactory as they are, why muck it up, now?”

“I wanted people, we both wanted those people we loved to be there, including you - to witness what we were becoming, I don’t know, it made a difference, Myc. I knew how I felt about him, and I knew how he felt about me, in an abstract way, I guess. But when I promised him, to be there, to love him, and share his life, no matter what, I watched his face - I saw it change, Mycroft, I saw that he believed me, trusted me, and after everything - you know - I never truly thought he’d trust me again. But when I put my ring on his finger and tears filled his eyes - I knew.”

“But -”

“Myc, you’re marrying her at Christmas, and you hate Christmas, fer chrissakes!”

The kettle sang out and Sherlock got to his feet, then thought back to that moment when he had to make his vows, and he took a deep breath as he made two mugs of tea, then carried them back to the table, and sat down again, taking his time to stir in the sugar before speaking again, in a softer tone.

“Honestly, I had a much longer speech planned, I had spent days on it, paragraphs of quotes, Auden, Cummings, I’m sure I even had a sonnet in there - spellchecked it and everything, had it memorized, word perfect - but when I stood in front of him and he looked into my eyes and smiled at me, it all vanished, and I just told him what was - yes, it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true - I told him what was in my heart. Logically, I know my heart has nothing to do with how I feel about John. But, Myc - love is - there is absolutely nothing logical or reasonable about love. It isn’t neat - it’s messy - even when you know - it’s still terrifying - because you know, one day - no matter how much you love them -”

Sherlock looked down at his ring and lapsed into silence for a moment. “No matter how much we care, Myc, one day, they won’t be there, and, in just this lifetime alone, I’ve already lost him once, well, twice; once when I 'died’ and once when I watched him actually die, Mycroft - and he was dead for one minute and twenty-three seconds. I was still breathing, I survived it. I stood there in the ambulance as we screamed through the traffic. I was holding his hand, he was beginning to get cold, at least it felt that way, maybe it was me - and suddenly - damn. Sorry. I didn’t mean to -”

He took a sip of tea and met his brother’s unreadable gaze. “All I’m trying to say is, do this for her - she deserves to know what you are afraid to say to her. Love takes more - I didn’t know until the first time I said it to him. It changes every time I say it to him and I tell him every day. I keep thinking one day he will get bored of hearing me say it, but he hasn’t yet, his breathing still catches, his eyes still flash at me - just think about what made you want to be with her.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes as his brother shifted in his seat. “I don’t mean in that way - what is it about her that makes you want to spend time with her, what is it that makes her different from all of the billions of people on the planet, Myc? Think about why you want to spend the rest of your life with her. Why are you changing the habits of - I’m assuming not just this life, but of centuries, yes? You came into the world in a bespoke suit, didn’t you?” Sherlock’s eyes twinkled at his brother as he quietly finished his tea, then got up from his seat. “It’s nearly midnight, Myc. Go back to bed, be with her, it will come to you. I see you with her. I know. She knows. No matter what you say to her in a few hours, she already knows how you feel about her. It doesn’t have to be poetry, just honest, from your heart, Myc. I do know that you have one. I am going back to bed. Night.” He put his mug in the sink, then turned towards the stairs.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“No, I mean it. Thank you for just being here today. I never thought I deserved a day like this, or that you - there were Christmas Eves when I wasn’t certain, I didn’t know if you were - never mind. Good night, Sherlock.”

“Mycroft. I am sorry - "

“Sherlock, you don’t have to.”

Sherlock shook his head and walked back to the table. “I do. There was so much I blamed you for and you didn’t deserve it, none of it. But, I made you pay over and over again, Myc. I’m so very sorry. I know it comes a bit late in the day, but I need you to know. Please, forgive me?”

For the first time in his life, Sherlock saw his brother’s gears screech to a complete, dead stop. “Oh, damn. No wonder it freaks John out so badly. That is frightening. Myc? Myc, look at me, blink, say something?”

Mycroft cleared his throat, then blinked, and blew out a breath. “Apologies. I. hmm. I think you’re right. I should go to bed.” He reached out and took Sherlock’s hand in his. “Thank you, Sherlock, you’ll never really know what it means. Night, brother mine.”

“Night, Myc, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Sherlock.”

 

“How is he?” John whispered from his chair.

Sherlock shook his head. “Much as I was, the night before I married you.” He moved closer to the fireplace and stared into the dying embers. “How much did you hear?”

“Everything.”

“Everything. John. I -”

“You filled the stockings.”

“Well, I wanted to practice, next Christmas, Maddie will be here. I know, she won’t be old enough to understand, but -”

John pulled Sherlock into his lap and kissed him softly. “You. Perhaps one day you will stop finding ways to amaze me. Today is not that day. I love you, Sherlock. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, John."


	6. Chapter 6

"Morning." John looked up as Alicia walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, John." She poured herself a cup of tea and sat across from him. "Were you nervous?"

"When I married Sherlock?"

She nodded and watched him carefully.

"Nervous. Not sure if that's the word exactly. It was more that I was a bit caught off guard how different it was. I mean, I'd done the big wedding thing before, to someone - well, to be honest, someone I never should have married. I didn't really know that when I did it, though I think in some ways, I knew, but -"

"Didn't want to know?" Alicia grinned, then sipped at her tea.

John shrugged then gave her a lopsided smile. "Yeah. That. Thing that surprised me was how it affected me to be marrying him, to hear him promise me everything that I had ever wanted, and how right it felt. I - he was a bit nervous, I think."

"Was not." Sherlock dropped into the chair next to John and rolled his eyes. "I knew precisely what I was doing."

"You were still nervous." John teased as he ruffled Sherlock's hair.

"Wasn't." John raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed heavily, then got up to get his own tea. "Okay, maybe a bit. I think it was the tie. No - I think it was we hadn't been 'together' together that long, and I was a bit worried - I don't know, that he might change his mind, but when he stood in front of me and smiled at me - like that, right there, I knew."

Alicia laughed, then took Sherlock's hand. "Thank you, for speaking to him last night, you really helped him. Whatever you said - when he came back to bed, he went rght to sleep, without nightmares for once. And no, I'm not nervous... okay, just a tiny bit. But, it's not because I'm uncertain about him. I've never been more certain of anything or anyone in my life. I know it may sound strange -"

Sherlock squeezed her hand and shook his head. "No, not strange. You see things in him, or he lets you see parts of himself that he doesn't share with anyone else. Hasn't. Ever. Thank you, for that. He's a different person, a better person because of you."

For a moment Sherlock was afraid he had broken her, but she blinked, then smiled at him. "I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Crepes this morning?"

Sherlock laughed, and he was reminded again how similar they were. "Crepes. Yes."

 

Grace found her seat between John and Howard and turned to look behind her. They had moved the furniture to fit as many chairs as possible, and they were all taken, more were standing, the smaller children were sitting in front, all in their Christmas best, fidgeting a bit, as children do... Gladys winked at her and nodded and she smiled back, then turned to find Howard looking at her in that way he had. She reached for his hand, so much larger and stronger than her own. Over the last few weeks, she had learned, relearned his hands, listened to his stories from the last five decades they had missed and then, then they began retelling those stories she had tried so hard to bury. One day - no, one day soon, she would tell John, or write them down for him.

"Mum?"

"Hmmm?"

"All right?"

"Perfect, I'm perfect." She squeezed his hand and looked up to meet his eyes, and knew she had everything she had ever wanted.

 

"Alicia?" Harry's voice broke her out of her reverie, she wasn't even sure what she had been thinking about. She nodded and looked in the mirror again. "You look brilliant. Don't worry, he won't be able to keep his eyes off you." Harry took a breath and turned away. 

"What?"

"What was it about him? I mean did you know the first time you saw him?"

Alicia laughed. "Love at first sight? Hmmm. I first saw an image of him when he was in his twenties, just a blurry shot in a classified file. Even though it was mostly out of focus, his eyes were sharp - I could see such intelligence there, that was all there was, I could feel the coldness, even in a black and white snap. He was a spy, after all, we had trained not to show emotion, but he had taken it to a level I had never seen before, I wanted to know why, but I was leaving the agency to marry - I had seen enough, done enough, but I never forgot his eyes. So, perhaps, yes, Harry, I suppose if one has dreams about one man's eyes for as long I have; yes, I suppose it was love or something close to it... and yes, I know, he's not everyone's cup of tea, but he loves me, like no one ever has before."

Harry nodded. "Nothing like it."

"No, there isn't, Harry. Thank you for doing this for me, I don't really have many friends -"

"I think you have more friends than you know, Alicia. I'll go see if the boys are ready."

 

"Stop fidgeting."

"I'm not fidgeting."

"Yes, you are."

"Am not."

"Breathe."

"I am breathing." Mycroft let out the breath he had been holding, then sighed as Sherlock fixed his tie again. "Thank you."

"It's nothing."

"You know what I mean."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"What you said to her this morning - "

"She's the best thing that has ever happened to you. Don't muck it up."

"Is that your best man speech?" Mycroft grinned at him, then regretted the words as he watched Sherlock's face change. "I'm sorry -"

"No. It's fine. I'll just offer a brief toast, if it's all the same to you?" Sherlock turned and picked up the boutonniere, and was about to pin it to his brother's lapel, when he felt Mycroft take it from him and do it himself.

"Please. I never apologised for that day." Sherlock shook his head and turned away.

"I don't -"

"I knew - it was the same as it always was, except it felt worse this time. I could have - I failed you in so many ways, Sherlock - I still don't understand how you can -"

Sherlock shrugged, then faced his brother. "John. He forgave me, keeps forgiving me. Every day. He - I can't love him the way I should if I can't find it in myself to forgive you. I don't know if that makes sense or not, it doesn't always make sense to me, but, I don't have room for that anymore. Now. Are you ready, Myc?"

Mycroft looked into his brother's bright eyes and nodded. "Ready."

"Boys?" Harry knocked and poked her head into the room and let out a low whistle. "Don't you two look -"

"Ridiculous?" Mycroft huffed out.

"Brilliant, was the word I was going for. She's ready when you are."

"All right, Myc, let's get you hitched."

 

Mycroft looked out into the sea of faces as he waited for Alicia to enter the room and wondered that he was still standing. Somehow Sherlock had sensed it, and their eyes met for a brief moment as he stood up straighter and pulled himself together. Then felt his knees begin to buckle as Harry walked in followed by Alicia. Sherlock laid a hand on his back and he remembered he knew how to breathe. Alicia knew, as she always did, and flashed him a grin. He couldn't help but smile back at her, and then he wondered how so many people could become so silent as she walked towards him. There was no music, they would dance afterwards, if he survived the next few minutes. He had to remind himself he had survived missions that would have killed most people, Queen Mary long before that, and ....

"Friends and family, we are gathered here today -" Davey stopped suddenly and cleared his throat. "Sorry, I need to go off-script here. I have performed every ceremony in this village for the last oh, four decades or so - and over the last few months, I have called upon to bless quite a few unions on this farm, first we had Molly and Greg, I've never seen a wedding put together so quickly, or done with such love. And then, our Grace and her Howie at long last - and now, Mycroft and Alicia. We have not known them for very long, but I hope both of you know how very loved you are. You are among family. Now, before Mycroft passes out, let us begin. Alicia?"

Alicia laughed then became serious as she handed Harry her flowers and took both of Mycroft's hands in hers, squeezing them lightly. "Harry just asked me if it was love at first sight, and I had to think about it for a moment, the briefest of moments, and I think, yes, I wanted to know who was behind those sharp, bright eyes from the first moment I saw a photo of you. It just took us a bit of time to get here. Mycroft. I - I know people think I have changed you, and perhaps it is true in a way, but you have to know that your love for me is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. You have allowed me to see the great heart, the great love that you have kept to yourself for far too long. I promise to keep that heart safe, to be by your side, and to keep you on your toes for the rest of your life." The room burst into laughter as Mycroft rolled his eyes, but smiled at her, then lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently. "I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know you are loved and cherished. And crepes every Saturday morning." She grinned at him, then turned to Harry for the ring. "This ring is a symbol of all I am, all I ever will be, what we are today, and what we will still become. I love you, Myc." She slid the ring onto his finger, and rolled her eyes as she felt tears fall. "Bloody hell. Sorry." 

Mycroft shook his head at her, took the handkerchief from Sherlock's hand and dabbed carefully at her eyes, then handed it back to his brother, before taking her hands again. "Ali. I spent hours last night trying to write something for today. I couldn't find the words I wanted to say to you, I thought -" he took a deep breath and let it out again. "Since the first time you stormed into my office, my heart, such as it is has belonged to you, even as I didn't believe I was the owner of such a heart. I have seen the damage love can do when in the wrong hands, or when it is not allowed to blossom, when it is meant to be. I never believed there would be someone for me, and I never dared to dream that you, of all people would be that someone, who would take the time to help me understand that I had a heart, that I was worthy of such love. But I have learned, I have seen what love can do, when it is true, when it is real. Someone told me recently that love isn't clean or reasonable, real love is messy, irrational and illogical. Loving you is the best thing I've ever done in my life, and with this ring," He let go of one of her hands as Sherlock pulled the ring from his pocket and placed it into his brother's hand. "With this ring, I promise to love you, adore you, listen to your stories, and laugh with you. No one else makes me laugh as you do, no one else has ever brought me as much joy as you have, Alicia. I love you." He pushed the band gently onto her finger, then glanced up at her face, and saw the rest of his life in her eyes. He took her into his arms and held her as she buried her head into his shoulder.

 

"What are you doing Glady?" Z yawned and rubbed his eyes as he sat up. "It's only five in the morning."

"Making sure we have everything."

"For what?"

"Paris."

"Paris?"

"Come on now, it's going to be a long day - up, up, up - the boys will be here in twenty minutes, get dressed."

"Slow down, Gladys. What are you on about?"

She sighed and sat down next to him. "Sherlock and John are taking us to Paris for Christmas. He couldn't figure out what to get John for Christmas and he asked my advice. And then he asked me if there was anywhere I always wanted to see. And I told him Paris. So, he arranged a trip for the four of us. We are going to see Paris, the way you should have. We were supposed to leave on Christmas Day, but with all the snow, we had to wait until today. Mycroft has arranged a private jet for us, first class all the way. Z - tell me you don't mind?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was a surprise -"

"No, I mean, why didn't you tell me you always wanted to see Paris?"

"I didn't want to make you think what we had wasn't enough. What we have here is -"

"Paris was your dream, wasn't it, Glady?"

"Z -"

"No, I know - I knew you painted. You didn't know I knew, did you? I was afraid you might not stay - you were brilliant, Glady. Did I stop you from being what you wanted to be? Do you regret -"

Gladys shook her head, then held his face in her hands and kissed him lightly. "I don't regret a single day, a single moment, I've had with you, Zachariah Moses."


End file.
